As Many Lives As It Takes
by CrisisOmegs
Summary: Kenny got over his excessive dying years ago, but he can't deny it still bothers him. When he and Butters share a moment, Kenny realizes Butters and his gullibility are just what he needs, and he'll spend the rest of his lives trying to get it.
1. Necessary Ingredients

**Hey everyone, this is my first story over here on , hope y'all like it. I've not really developed a unique writing style yet, and the whole thing might be pretty amateurish, but go ahead and give it a read. I would really appreciate any criticism you guys have one it. Peace ~ CrisisOmegs**

"Fuck," Kenny said as the knife rammed through his skull, piercing him right in the middle of his forehead.

Like always, he knew he'd wake up in a matter of hours, lying unharmed in bed. And like always, his friends wouldn't even acknowledge his death. At this point, after sixteen years of monotonous death after death, Kenny's cuss wasn't fueled by rage but had become a cry of annoyance and disappointment. If today was February 2, then he'd gone… About three months without getting shot or drowned or painfully maimed; Kenny had been expecting the stretch to last longer than that. He wondered what happened before his brain shut down, and came to the conclusion that he didn't even care anymore. The last words he heard before drifting off were something about killing Kenny and somebody being a bastard. His final breath turned into an irritated sigh.

As Kenny got older, his frequent deaths had become, well, less frequent. While they originally came _at least_ once a week, the familiar feeling of fatality started to become fairly uncommon, even to the point where dying became a monthly occurrence. His longest stretch without dying was a six month period where he'd even entertained the notion that his dreadful deaths had stopped completely. That is, until he had been burned by a trash incinerator and turned into dark black ash.

The vain hope he sustained during those more-than-a-month stretches of refreshing, continuous life turned into a type of torture all on its own. Dying after four or five months left him with a cold reminder of his freakish immortality, and Kenny thought that he used to take dying better when it was a daily chore rather than something so unpredictable. But death was still relatively common (at least, compared to everyone else's standards) and Kenny had to live with it and the fact that no one else noticed.

Though that didn't mean he wasn't completely fucking sick of it.

As his sigh drifted from his mouth, his eyelids fluttered downwards and his surroundings gave way to a familiar, filthy room and a thinly threaded blanket covered his shivering body. Cold and bitter but certainly alive. Kenny rolled his eyes and sat up in bed, thinking that it must be a school day; if it wasn't he probably would have been killed by a drug overdose or drunk driving or some shit like that. After all, what's the point of immortality if you couldn't enjoy yourself? It wasn't like he'd get addicted to anything, since his body felt new and refreshed every time he woke up from being slaughtered the night before. Lots of teens took their youth to mean immortality, and acted like they were invincible; Kenny was the same, but maybe a little crazier, a little wilder. While everyone else _acted_, Kenny _knew_ he couldn't die. He couldn't make enough of a mess out of himself.

Slipping on an oversized and very familiar orange parka (he'd gone to the ends of the earth to make sure it was the same as his original, and had bought an extra large to make sure he'd never outgrow it), Kenny made his way to the same bus stop he'd always gone to. He kept his hood down now, since at some point he'd become keenly aware at how easily an attacker could sneak up from his side to bring a brand new death upon him.

The look on his friends' faces hinted that he should have at least run a comb through his hair before heading out. Kyle, Stan, and Cartman all looked a little surprised at Kenny's lack of concern for his appearance though they weren't clearly upset. As the resident poor kid, Kenny knew they often attributed any problems he had to his poverty.

"Hey, guys," Kenny said, not trying too hard to mask his disappointment; he'd really been looking forward to a nice string of painless days. His words came out deflated and with little sincerity.

"Um, hey dude," Kyle said with a bit more concern. "You look kinda out of it, you okay?"

Kenny found that Kyle's motherly caring was not what he wanted today. He considered shooting Kyle an "of-course-I'm-not-fucking-okay" look before he just shrugged his shoulders and gave a feeble "Yeah, whatever" in reply.

"Look Jew-boy, I know you're a class-A fag and all but I don't think doting on Kenny is gonna get you into his pants," sneered Cartman. Kenny looked over and saw a sadistic grin on Cartman's face; his remark had certainly not been meant to lift Kenny's spirits. Even after so many years the rivalry between Cartman and Kyle had done little simmering down.

"One of these days, Fat-ass, you're gonna get it," Kyle threatened. His temper was already boiling after such a routine insult from Cartman. Kenny thought that maybe Kyle hadn't had the best night either.

"I'm gonna _get it_? Well fuck Kyle, I hope you won't be the one to give it to me. I don't like taking it up the ass," replied Cartman, face darkening with that sick satisfaction he got from tormenting others.

Stan, ever the mediator, refrained from making any unnecessary comments and decided to merely comfort Kyle.

"Jesus dude, just take a deep breath or something," Stan said, laughing a little. "Don't let him get in your head like that."

Kenny applauded Cartman's self restraint when he didn't make another gay joke after hearing Stan say 'head', though his smug look suggested that he was merely keeping it to himself.

With the bus's arrival, the gang clamored into their usual seats. Kyle and Stan were busy, the two super-best-friends chitchatting about a new CD or something; Kenny wasn't in the mood to eavesdrop. He heard Cartman mumble something about the two "gaying it up" before he resigned himself to looking out the window. For all the enjoyment Cartman got out of tormenting other people, Kenny really believed he wanted a super-best-friend of his own. Which was probably the only reason Kenny kept hanging out with the guy; a lot of people had gotten sick of his shit awhile ago but Kenny felt he at least deserved some pity. Even though today Kenny was the one who needed pity.

His immortality hadn't changed since fourth grade, and neither had a lot of other things. Though Cartman wasn't exactly fat anymore, he couldn't be considered a macho man either. Reaching six feet, his stocky build gave him a very proportional look and he had a solidness which Kenny couldn't recall from childhood. His hair remained fluffy brown and his eyes a dark cocoa, giving his pouting a very nostalgic feeling. It was identical to the expression he'd worn years ago.

Kyle had predictably grown to be smaller than the rest, thought because he was lanky, his thinness exaggerated his 5 foot 10 height and left people thinking he was just as tall as Cartman. His fiery hair usually remained buried underneath his trademark green ushanka, but as he aged his locks became less curly and a bit darker. It gave him a more mature look, but he was just as hotheaded as he was in fourth grade and Kenny doubted that would ever change.

Kyle and Stan's relationship had done little changing as well; they still depended on each other for so much. Even after Stan had broken up with Wendy, Kyle was always there when Stan needed a shoulder to cry on. And since Stan's emotional tendencies had remained, well, he often needed one. Taller than Kyle, he sported the same black locks as always, a bit shaggy but straight. The two made a great couple in Kenny's opinion, but he doubted they would ever get together seriously – though he'd bet good money that they had at least gotten a good look at each others' dicks before.

As for Kenny himself, the years had been kind to him; perhaps with the excessive pain, God had been nice enough to include soft corn-colored hair that went great with deep blue eyes, as well as a thin but sleek figure. The ladies, and more recently the men, were frequently falling for him, and he didn't mind. He took the same stance on relationships as drugs and alcohol; he might as well indulge in them. Death had, understandably, made him fearless.

Hopping off the bus, he and his friends parted ways as they headed for their respective lockers and homerooms. With Cartman absorbed in his own needs and Stan and Kyle absorbed with each others', Kenny was sure they were over what little concern they had for him this morning. Which was cool; he hadn't been expecting any at all, to be honest. It's not like showing up disheveled at the bus stop was too uncommon. Kenny heard the usual "Jew","Fat-ass" exchange between Kyle and Cartman before he got to his locker and fished around for his books. The locker was cluttered with shit from who knows how long ago; he wondered whether he'd ever get called out for being a pack rat.

"Heya, Ken," came a rather flirty voice from beside him. Kenny looked to see a head of curly blonde hair and rather massive tits and instantly recognized Bebe.

_Aw man, at least somebody knows how to cheer me up_, Kenny thought. He returned her smile with a sexy one of his own and leaned closer.

"Tits! Oh, I mean, Bebe!" Kenny greeted her, giving her a sly grin.

"Haha, very funny McCormick," Bebe said, rolling her eyes but still smiling. "Haven't seen much of you lately."

"Unfortunately," snorted Kenny.

He and Bebe had been friends with benefits since 9th grade; both of them had a reputation for being pretty slutty. It was a match made in heaven, and they had become so comfortable with each other sexually and personally that they were honestly very good friends. Having a girl like Bebe around was great for Kenny: she cheered him up in more ways than one.

Kenny closed his locker and the two of them took off for their first class, home economics. Kenny put his arm around Bebe's waist, and even if it looked it, everyone knew they weren't a couple. They had both made it perfectly clear that there were few people they were opposed to hooking up with.

"Made up with Wendy yet? I know you guys had a fight about her lack of 'action' or something," Kenny wondered aloud, not really caring about the answer but, having partially gotten over his depression, wanting to talk to somebody.

"Oh god, what a prude," Bebe complained, affectionately insulting her best friend. "I just want her to get herself a boyfriend or something, she's been waaay too clingly lately and, as you may know, I need time for my own pursuits."

"Oh boy, do I," Kenny murmured under his breath, entering the classroom.

Their teacher called for order, and the students reluctantly made their way to their seats. Because home economics wasn't exactly an intellectually challenging course, all the students were lumped into the standard category. Kenny got by with C's and maybe a D or two, but he didn't mind hanging out with the smarter kids. If it weren't for classes like these, he wouldn't get to spend any time in school with Kyle or Stan. They weren't in his home ec. class, but he did enjoy their company during gym.

As for the kids in his home ec. class, well, there was Bebe, Cartman, Jimmy, Butters, and more… The school's variety of students hadn't changed much since fourth grade.

The teens split up into their groups; the assignment for today was baking muffins, but he wondered if he could get away with making cookies instead. All the ingredients were right there in front of him, so he just had to coerce his group mates to do the same. He licked his lips at the thought. Nothing to raise spirits like the smell of freshly baked cookies, he thought hungrily.

Kenny's group was made up of Butters and Cartman, because they had been allowed to choose their own partners. Butters could be pressured into doing nearly anything, especially with Cartman there to make him.

"Hey Fat-ass, we should bake cookies instead. You know, to fuck with the teacher?" Kenny suggested. He had decided whether to appeal to Cartman's gluttonous side or sadistic side, but sadistic won out pretty easily.

Cartman gave him a look.

"Please Kenny, in order to _really_ fuck with one's teacher, simply ruin the recipe entirely," he said, rolling his eyes. "Amateurs," he exclaimed, sounding exasperated.

Kenny felt himself getting aggravated. Without Bebe's rampant sex appeal to quell his rather self-deprecating feelings, he was back to being upset by his recent brush with death.

"Dammit Cartman, I just want some cookies." Kenny hated it when people tried to get in the way of something he wanted.

"Well, now I get to screw with both you and the teacher, don't I?"

Kenny rolled his eyes and sat down. If there wasn't the promise of chocolately delight waiting for him, no way was he going to waste his time baking shit.

All the while, Butters was reading the instructions with a confused look on his childish, scrunched-up face.

"Um, l-let's see, so 4 cups of flour… N-no wait, ¼ of a cup?" he was mumbling to himself, scratching his head.

"Let _me_ take it from here, Butters," Cartman said, snatching the recipe out of his hands and starting to mix random amounts of ingredients together.

"Aah, w-wait Eric! I'm not sure you're doin' the recipe right…" Butters meekly tried to assert himself, with little success. The petite blond stood awkwardly, mashing his hands together.

Kenny lay back in his chair and covered his eyes with his hands. He was completely unmotivated and he didn't need two idiots screwing around right now. If he fell asleep now, would anybody notice? As long as he didn't get in the way of Cartman's cooking antics, he doubted Butters would speak up about his lack of action. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

CRASH!

Kenny jumped up in alarm to be greeted with a panicked Butters and a disapproving Cartman, standing over a mess of flour and a broken ceramic bowl.

"Butters, please. I ask you to mix together the dry ingredients and you drop the bowl? For shame," Cartman was saying. Kenny seriously doubted it was Butters' fault.

Butters looked extremely nervous; his hands wouldn't stop twitching and he didn't seem to want to look anyone in the eye. Kenny couldn't understand how someone could be so upset about a simple mistake. No one had even gotten hurt.

Butters spent the rest of the class trying (and failing) to clean up his mess; he started by trying to pick up the shards of bowl but cut his hand on it, and had to fix his meager wound before returning; he wandered around restlessly looking for a broom, mumbling under his breath "I've really got to learn to behave myself," in his rather unique accent. While Kenny found his little performance quite entertaining, he moved in to help after the bell rang. Since there wasn't another home economics class until third period, they wouldn't be kicked out and he decided to stay and clean up. It's not like Kenny had no sympathy for the little guy. He was still the bumbling, blond-haired Butters from years before, except taller and perhaps more mature, at least physically. His physique was not unlike Kenny's.

"Aw, shucks Kenny," Butters said, looking embarrassed and cheeks flushing red. "You don't owe me nuthin' but you stay here and help me. That's awful nice of you."

"Yeah, sure. Not like I'd rather go to my next class," Kenny replied, sighing. What did he have next, math? With no friends to keep him occupied? The last thing he wanted was to be alone with his thoughts.

Butters looked at him thoughtfully and asked, "Kenny, you look pretty down today… Did you die yesterday or somethin'?"

Kenny dropped the shard of bowl he was holding and raised his head in a quick jerk to face Butters. Butters' innocent face showed no sarcasm or ill will. Kenny couldn't believe his ears. And then he got angry.

Using all the strength Kenny had accumulated in his sixteen years of living, he lunged at Butters, grabbing his arms and pinning him against the wall.

"What the—" Butters started, but one look at Kenny's eyes, burning with fury, shut him up and Butters felt his body filling with fear.

"You think this is funny? You think you can make jokes about death or some shit like that? You little shit!" he yelled, slamming Butters against the wall one more time for good measure. His anger was all spilling out, all his frustration. Nobody else even mentioned death, but Butters had to make it seem like he knew Kenny's curse and he had to look like he was treating it so lightly. When somebody got in Kenny's way, he could get mad. Really fucking mad.

"W-well I just thought that maybe you died or somethin' cause you were lookin' sad and you never look happy after dyin'," Butters was still stuttering, looking down at Kenny's firm grip on his arms.

Kenny was shocked. He gripped Butters tighter. It sounded like… Butters _knew_? He knew that Kenny could die and come back to life the morning after?

Kenny leaned in dangerously close, looking deep in Butters' eyes so he could be sure that the answer he would get from his next question would be one hundred percent truthful. He could feel Butters' frantic breathing against his face.

"Are you saying that _you know I can't die_?"

Butters was quiet for a moment, taken aback by Kenny's sudden intensity. No doubt he had rarely seen Kenny, the apathetic, careless teen, act so seriously.

"That's w-what you always tell people… Isn't it?" Butters asked, wincing from the pain as Kenny's grip did not let up.

A look of complete and utter sincerity was clear in Butters' eyes. Kenny could feel himself breathing heavily, his face ridiculously close to Butters. Butters was clearly very uncomfortable, squirming around under Kenny's iron grip. But Kenny would take neither his hands nor his eyes off Butters.

"Look Kenny, I'm awfully sorry if I offended you… I'll try'n be more careful next time, promise!" Butters pleaded, wishing he could leave. Even though he had an excuse to be late for class, he couldn't take this atmosphere. He felt more confused than ever.

But Kenny was lost deep in thought, all of it about Butters'. His piercing stare caused Butters discomfort, but Kenny was being filled with a warm feeling of excitement and anticipation. _Of course!, _Kenny thought._ Butters is so gullible and naïve, he believed me from the moment I told everyone back in fourth grade, dressed as "Mysterion". Every time I've mentioned it since then, he's been the only one to take it seriously. But Butters doesn't speak up, especially when he's afraid of being wrong, and he must have been shocked to hear my secret. "Professor Chaos" was in the backround the whole time; why didn't I think of this before? This is what I need. Someone who believes me wholeheartedly, the most sincere, innocent person I've ever met. Look at him. He's perfect._

Kenny looked hard at Butters, who had stopped squirming and seemed paralyzed by fear, completely at the whim of Kenny's choice of action. Kenny studied his blond tresses, short and soft as always, a light blond like a glass of lemonade. Kenny wished he could swim in Butters' sea blue eyes.

But then Kenny let him go. His grip loosened and he stood there upright, staring at where Butters had been one second ago. Butters grabbed his books clumsily, running fast and nearly tripping in his eagerness to get out of the classroom.

As Kenny stared at the wall, he replayedd Butters' answer over and over again in his mind. His eyes remained wide as he grabbed at the air where Butters used to be, embracing it and trying to bring it close to his body.

"_That's what you always tell people… Isn't it?"_

Standing in the silence of the empty room, broken bowl and ruined flour still beside him on the floor, Kenny swore he could hear wedding bells.


	2. Deal or No Deal

**Hey guys! This chapter came in pretty fast because I didn't want to lose my momentum. It's also the only free night I've had in a very. long. time. So I figure I would take advantage of the fact and whip out another chapter, just for you! ;) Thanks for all the reviews, I've been taking the criticism to heart and it's nice to know that people are fans of my writing. This chapter is called "Deal or No Deal" because a lot of it involves Cartman and his devious plots :). I hope you like it; the side story comes in on this one. It's shorter than the other chapter but I made the first one really long on purpose, so don't expect that all the time. Peace ~ CrisisOmegs**

* * *

Kenny looked down, a bit frazzled, and made sure his suit was clean. He gave it one quick pat before looking over to his friends in the back row, Kyle and Stan giving him an enthusiastic thumbs-up, Cartman pouting with arms crossed in a corner. Other kids from their class, like Bebe and Wendy, were sitting in the pews as well. And as the music started playing, Kenny saw a sleek figure approaching in a flowing white gown, face covered by a veil. As his soon-to-be-spouse came closer, Kenny leaned in to lift the veil, and affectionately kissed Butters. Wait wait wait…

He opened his eyes, breathing in sharply but not too shaken up. Kenny wasn't exactly surprised to wake up from this kind of bat-shit insane dream, even if he thought it was sort of weird that he'd dream about a wedding. His mind went crazy every time he thought about Butters and a wedding was so chaste. Though if he hadn't woken up they probably would've gone on their 'honeymoon' soon enough. Hell, either way it certainly beat waking up after being stabbed in the back (literally).

It had been three days since his confrontation with Butters, and Kenny hadn't really anticipated how awkward it would make things between them. While he and Butters could be called friends, they didn't hang out as often as Kenny did with Kyle and Stan. A more accurate term would be "people who hang out because the rest of their friends are off doing something else", and when Kenny basically held Butters hostage it hadn't strengthened their relationship.

Since the two only had home economics together, and the class met every other day, they didn't see each other until Friday. All Thursday Kenny had been distracted by thoughts of seeing Butters again; he didn't pay attention normally but it was even worse now, and when his teacher called him out for sleeping in English again, threatening harsh punishment, he hardly even acknowledged her threats. Quite frankly, Kenny didn't know what to do with himself. How could he feel like he had fallen in love at first sight, when he had known Butters for almost his entire life? Even if the two weren't close, he'd always been present at school for as long as Kenny could remember. That Kenny could think of him like this… Kenny didn't even know what it felt like to be in love. It had certainly never happened before. Was he even sure this was any different from the lust he'd felt for people in the past?

When they _did_ meet again, Butters' anxiety was only worsened by Kenny's frequent stares. Butters must have felt like Kenny's eyes were always on his back, and he was one hundred percent right. Cartman, noticing the tension between the two, of course had to make a comment.

Leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his head, Cartman pompously said, "I guess Kyle and Stan's gaiety has finally rubbed off on our friends here. I should get away before I get infected."

"Eep!" Butters yelped, fumbling with one of the pans as he heard the comment; he knocked down some of the ingredients for a lemon bars recipe, and mumbled "Fiddlesticks" with defeat. For all of Butters' naïveté and gullibility, he wasn't stupid. And it was a well known fact that Butters' parents were fervently opposed to any sort of homosexual relationship; with strict parents like that, Butters probably associated pain anytime he and homosexuality were mentioned in the same sentence.

Kenny furrowed his brow a bit at that intentionally-scathing comment, but he wasn't one to get upset at Cartman's insults. They had gotten to him two days ago because of his terrible mood; with all of these new thoughts swirling through his head, Kenny couldn't care less what Cartman said or thought of him. Though he was going to have to figure out how to get around Butters' homophobic parents. At least he was nearly certain that Butters was gay; kids hadn't been saying that since elementary school for nothing.

Kenny had decided from the get-go to act calm and cool around Butters. He wasn't really nervous about getting into a relationship with the guy. Sure, there were obstacles, but Kenny wasn't intimidated. He was confident in his looks and thought that bringing out his best charm would at least get him a reaction. Where most people would be nervous, Kenny was hugely excited for this new ground he was covering. Even though he was dreaming about a picture-perfect wedding, Kenny couldn't help himself from thinking of Butters in certain other ways when he came into contact with him on Friday. The only thing he worried about was just how intense the feeling was this time around. He thought back to his reflections on love.

Cartman, obviously satisfied with the reaction he had gotten out of Butters, was heading in for another insult when Kenny stepped up to help Butters pick up the fallen food items. Cartman just gave a smug smirk and watched, knowing Butters would probably find this just as tormenting.

"Cleaning up with me again? Are you dropping stuff on purpose, Butters?" Kenny said, leaning down so he and Butters were on eye-level, picking up the mess of ingredients. He flashed Butters a winning smile to make his good intentions clear. Hopefully Butters wouldn't be terrified of him having another outburst.

_Shit_, Kenny thought, _spoke too soon_. Butters flinched back as soon as he noticed Kenny's presence, gripping the ingredients he had already picked up. He must have been nervous because Kenny noticed juice from a half-cut lemon running down the side of Butters' hand.

"Uh, n-no Kenny, I c-can do this alone," Butters stuttered, meekly smiling and trying to pick up his mess as fast as he could.

But Kenny wasn't going to give up that easily. "Naw, I'll help. If you don't want me to help clean, I could, uh, cook or something?"

Cartman raised his eyebrow, scrutinizing Kenny before he started smiling sadistically. He leaned over to Butters and whispered, "Watch out Butters, I was just making jokes before, but this man-whore legitimately wants your ass."

Butters turned bright red. Kenny hoped he'd be able to restrain himself, but Butters was just _so fucking adorable_. He couldn't believe how attractive he had gotten recently.

Standing straight up, Butters stiffly excused himself from the conversation, face still flushed.

He turned, making sure to avoid eye contact with Kenny. Kenny thought he might be afraid of another intense staring competition.

"Uh, fellas, I think I'd better… U-uh, I mean, I have t-to go and, uh, l-leave. To the bathroom, I mean," he mumbled, and as he left the other two his anxiety was overwhelming.

Cartman turned to taunt Kenny.

"Didn't think you really had a thing for goody-two-shoes over there. But I'm not sure Butters appreciates raging sexual deviants; if you're looking for a 'good time' tonight I suggest going to visit your good friend Bebe." Cartman's foot kicked the lemon Butters had dropped on his way out, forcing it out of Kenny's reach.

Kenny turned his face up to give Cartman a weary look of disapproval before scavenging around for the rest of the ingredients. Before Cartman could make a joke about poor people eating food off the floor, Kenny shut him up with an unexpected response.

"Yeah, Butters is pretty sexy, huh? But you're right; don't think I'll score with him anytime soon."

Kenny's bluntness made Cartman's eyes go blank from surprise for a moment, and when he recovered himself he still looked rather uncomfortable. Kenny smiled slyly.

"Too bad I scared him with our incredibly hot confrontation yesterday," he said, seeing that Cartman was quite nearly disgusted with his latest comment.

"Dude, I knew you were half a fag and all but I seriouslah am about to puke right now," Cartman said, wrinkling his nose.

"Hey man, you really are right," Kenny laughed. "I don't think I'll get time alone with Butters by my usual, direct 'boom boom boom, I want you in my room' technique."

Cartman's look of displeasure turned into the expression of someone with a terrible scheme. Kenny winced; he'd been hoping to tease Cartman some more, since he rarely got the chance to find something that really bothered the guy.

"Kenneh," Cartman began, turning on the charm like he always did when he wanted something. "If you can get me a measly, let's say, $500, I'll come up with a legitimate list of what Butters looks for in his men; I'm almost certain the little fag keeps a list in his diary."

Kenny looked up again, sort of pissed off but also with a hint of consideration.

"Fuck you, Fat-ass, you know I don't have that kind of money. What kind of dude charges $500 for what's essentially relationship advice anyway?"

It must have been obvious that Kenny was legitimately thinking about it, since Cartman didn't miss a beat in his retort.

"Well then Lover-boy, that's too bad. As you may know, Butters and I are good friends."

"Yeah, or maybe you trick him into thinking you are. Face it, Asshole, you don't have too many 'good friends'."

Cartman frowned at this comment, and even though Kenny thought he was an idiot, he was still slightly considering Cartman's offer. As long as he could get the price down to an affordable range, of course.

Kenny whipped out his wallet and took out all the money he had. Feigning desperation, he handed it to Cartman, who hungrily accepted.

"Please, take any money you want, as long as I can be with my one true love!" Kenny said with mock sincerity, pretending to swoon and holding his hands to his heart with a sneaky smile on his face.

Cartman, not amused, threw the tiny wad of cash back at Kenny, who promptly started cracking up.

"Fuck you, Kenneh, that wasn't more than fifteen bucks," he said, crossing his arms and pouting. "I know you're poor and all but you can at least not insult me when I'm suggesting a business exchange."

When he had stopped laughing, Kenny, still smiling, faced Cartman half-seriously.

"Look Cartman, let's make a deal: you find out one thing that Butters loves in a guy, and if it works when I use it on him, I'll come up with an amount of money you'll accept. Sound good?"

Even if Kenny looked like he was joking, he really was willing to try this out. He could feel a long and tortuous ride ahead of him in his pursuit for Butters if he didn't have some kind of advantage. And while he knew he'd feel at least a little guilty about what was essentially tricking Butters, as soon as he'd won him over he could act just like he usually would. And it didn't seem like Butters was going to have guys groveling at his feet anytime soon. By falling in love with him, wasn't Kenny really doing him a favor?

…

There was that word again.

Kenny had been expecting Cartman to bitch and moan until he got his way, but he caved in immediately. It was sort of suspicious.

"Alright then. I'll have one piece of advice for you by Monday; ONE. Once the magic kicks in and Blondie over there is down on his knees, I'm sure you'll put off buying more poptarts to fund your romance," he sneered. Cartman lowered his voice as Butters walked nervously back into the room.

_What a saint, _Kenny thought_; even if he wants to completely avoid class today, he can't bring himself to skip. I would have been long gone by now._ It was a hell of a change from most of the kids he'd been with, another reminder of Butters' wonderful innocence. It was actually a huge turn-on.

Butters mumbled a quick hello before getting back to his work. Kenny watched him for a few more minutes, but, not wanting to press his luck, he sat down and stared off into space. Butters worked a bit more efficiently after that, which, Kenny had to admit, left him a little depressed.

_Doing him a favor? Please. Stop trying to justify you're selfish actions; you've never done it before._

_

* * *

_

After the bell rang, Cartman rushed out of class, feeling like he was sort of on a high. He'd secured a great deal with Kenny, leaving him in control of yet another romance. After he got the list for Kenny, he'd pay Cartman any amount to keep him from telling Butters. The promise of such power over the people he knew always left him a little giddy.

It was this feeling that prompted him to finally have the resolve to do what he was going to do next.

Frankly, Cartman was bisexual. Oh God, there it is, out in the open like that. It made him feel sick; being bisexual was way too close to being a fag for comfort. It was his secret shame, this thing that was just hanging over him all the time. Acting like a bigoted homophobe becomes much more difficult if you've actually masturbated to gay porn. It's not like he was completely gay; he'd certainly been interested in women before, and at least one had been interested in him. But every once and a while he'd be hanging around with the guys after school and be afraid of getting a massive boner because of the way Kenny talked about his latest sexual conquest. It was gross and undesirable and Cartman felt like he desperately needed to find a way to prevent that.

Obviously, he needed a girlfriend. And, logically, who would be a better choice than the only one he'd ever kissed? He made a dash for her locker, and without further ado, started talking.

"Wendy," he said, putting his hands in his pockets so no one could see them sweating; he hated showing vulnerability. "I would be willing to offer you a large sum of cash in exchange for a favor."

Wendy slammed her locker shut, clutching her books while her eyes seemed like they were going to light him on fire.

"Look Cartman, you can just drop it because I don't even want to know your request," she spat, nose higher in the air than usual. "I won't accept _any _amount of money to suck your dick or some shit like that."

Wendy wasn't usually this crude, but being around Cartman brought out the rudest in her. Cartman thought that was kind of hot.

"That could be a problem," Cartman said, and saw Wendy's face scrunch up in a look of disgust. In an effort to remedy the situation, he added, "But I guess that isn't actually a requirement…"

Wendy turned up her nose even higher and started to walk away, but Cartman grabbed her shoulders and tried to act suave (which, although he didn't know it, never worked).

"Wendy, all I need you to do… is fall in love with me," he cooed.

Wendy looked like she was going to throw up. She seemed intent on giving him the silent treatment.

"It can't be _that _hard, heh, I mean, _look_ at me," Cartman scoffed, and launched into a rant about his ravishing good looks, which made him less nervous since he was basically giving himself a pep talk. He kept on until he realized that Wendy was already out of sight.

A lot of people didn't know it since he put up a huge façade, but Cartman had lost a lot of his confidence since entering high school. This wasn't exactly helping.

"… Hippie bitch."


	3. The Only Exception

**Hey guys! I really like this chapter, but am sort of embarrassed by it as well. I hope you appreciate the little musical performance. I really liked Kenny's cover of the song, if I say so myself. I'd love some reviews on what you thought! I'm also trying to keep all the characters, well, in character. I had this one written before, I just waited a bit to publish it. As for the Candy in the last chapter, there will be more of that next chapter, promise! But this whole thing is alllll Bunny. Peace ~ CrisisOmegs**

_Dear Diary,_

_Now I know what you'll think of me after I tell you this, but I really would like to be with someone who can play me music. Having someone sing you a sing and play you one on their piano would be swell! My heart just wouldn't stop beating! Diary, am I a 'hopeless romantic'?_

"You've got to be kidding me."

Kenny looked up from the crumpled piece of lined paper, sighing. He was meeting Cartman at his locker, the first part of their deal completed. The bell had just rung, and there were swarms of people all around them.

"You're fucking with me, right? You just want to see me serenade Butters and fail," he said, and he groaned when Cartman shook his head no.

"This is word for word shit, my friend," Cartman replied. "I've stolen at least four of Butters' diaries over the years, and let me tell you, he goes crazy for dumbass romantic stuff like that. One too many chick flicks, if you ask me." Cartman shook his head again, this time feigning pity for the innocent blond.

After Kenny had requested a tip, Cartman had gone through all of his information and whipped out what was possibly the worst bit of advice Kenny could have gotten. Except maybe that Butters would only go out with a virgin. But Cartman had so much on so many people that his closet was file after file, dated and marked accordingly. Kenny didn't doubt that this was accurate info.

"What the hell," Kenny muttered, looking at Cartman angrily. "This is _so_ not my style, you know that."

Cartman chuckled and put his arm around his friend.

"Kenny, Kenny, Kenny," he laughed. "If I give you all the good stuff now, there's no way you'd come back for more. I have to make this profitable for myself, too." He patted Kenny on the back heartily, obviously enjoying his friends' despair.

Kenny shrugged him off, putting his hands in his pockets along with the frustrating piece of paper.

"Yeah yeah," he sighed. "See you later, Fat-ass."

Kenny walked into the mess of students, letting himself be directed to his next class. It was Monday morning, and he didn't have Home Ec until tomorrow. He had figured that he could have tailored himself to Butters' liking by the next day, but this was sort of a tall order. Kenny felt himself drifting into Tweek's state of mind; too much pressure! Jesus Christ.

He wasn't the type to do stuff for people, but Kenny felt that Butters was a big exception. Maybe for him, he would learn to play maybe one song on the old, beat-up guitar Kenny kept in his room. He knew the basic chords, but he sure as hell couldn't be called a musician.

Oh no. Not that song. It was annoying and girly and Kenny was convinced it had been written in an hour or two.

But once Kenny had gotten the idea, he knew he had to do it. That was the only song he could play for Butters. The kid would go head over heels for him.

He stopped by the library on the way home, even though he had to walk there in the rain. He made sure he printed out the best guitar tabs he could find on the shitty library computer. It was better than no computer at all. When he got home, he sat down and started practicing immediately; it was a Monday night so he couldn't go to some random party, but he sure as hell wasn't going to be doing homework. So he practiced.

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday. Every afternoon, he went straight home and practiced. It was actually really cool to have a drive like that. Kenny rarely felt like he had to improve himself for anyone. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how high Butters' standards must be. The kid had never had a boyfriend (at least, to Kenny's knowledge) and Cartman had basically told Kenny that he had lists of what the kid had defined as his perfect soul mate. Most people had stopped dreaming about perfection at the ripe old age of thirteen, but Butters was still going strong. Kenny had never started. There was something about repeatedly dying that made him relatively pessimistic about his own future.

On both Tuesday and Thurday, when Kenny had Home Ec, he made sure to only help out slightly more than usual. While he had learned that being pushy was not the right course of action, he couldn't sit out anymore and risk putting even more stress on Butters. The two rarely talked, usually only with one or two worded responses. If Butters wasn't exactly warming up to him, he was at least moving Kenny out of Psycho Zone and back into mild friendship.

As for Cartman, who Kenny wasn't really up to talking to anyway, he either kept to himself or strangely made a big effort to chat up Bebe.

_You can have her_, Kenny snorted, thinking that Butters wouldn't appreciate her hanging around once they got in a relationship. _But I'll have to be the bearer of bad news sometime. I wonder, will she be… disappointed?_

But he pushed that thought into the back of his mind. Every hour of the week he was waiting, for the time he could practice and improve and show Butters really how he felt, really that he meant what he would sing to him.

So on Friday, was the last bell rang and school let out, he ran to Butters' locker and faced him, begging God or whatever that Butters would go along with what he was about to say.

"BUTTERS!" he nearly yelled, causing the fragile teen to jump. Kenny had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing. Even if he sincerely wanted Butters to come along, the sheepish manner of the other boy was charming. Kenny pushed on through.

"Look man, I need you to come with me somewhere. It's really fucking important. I mean, it's really important," Kenny nearly begged, trying to censor some of his bad language.

Butters looked apprehensive, almost trying to hide behind his locker. Kenny hoped he wasn't pressing his luck, but this was the moment he'd been waiting and practicing for! He wasn't used to waiting for someone, and even if he was much more willing to do so for Butters if need be, he needed to just do this one thing. Then he'd wait. Promise.

"U-uh, I dunno Kenny," Butters replied meekly. "Y'know, I think that if my I d-don't get home, my p-parents might ground me."

Kenny resisted the desire to roll his eyes.

"Dude, come _on_," he pleaded, making himself look as pitiable as possible. "You're the only one who can help me with this. I _need _you to come with me."

While still nervous, Kenny could tell Butters was surprised by his latest comment.

"R-…Really?" Butters questioned. There was no way in hell that he heard this too often. The poor kid had been used and abused by pretty much everyone he could call a friend. The idea of being wanted or loved was Butters' biggest desire, and Kenny wanted him alright.

Butters started to mash his fists together, his trademark of indecision and wavering.

"I… I still don't know. Aw, shucks Kenny, not that I'm don't wanna hang out with you-" he started, but was silenced by Kenny's hand over his mouth. Butters looked down in alarm and Kenny spoke to him a warm, soothing voice.

"If you want to hang out with me, then why don't you?" Kenny said gently. He took his hand away from Butters' mouth and put it on his shoulder in a friendly, inviting way. Apparently, the appeal of any sort of affection was enough for Butters to forget about the perpetual threat of being grounded.

Butters looked at Kenny hard, and, sensing no desire to hurt or maim the blue-eyed teen, nodded yes.

Kenny had to put all of his energy into avoiding a fist pump of victory.

He smiled comfortably and realized how nervous he actually was. And how this wasn't a feeling that came into his life often. He thought that maybe trying to play it cool all the time would be much harder than he'd expected.

"Hey, sweet! Let's get outta here; I have to pick something up at my place first," Kenny said, still smiling widely.

He and Butters walked in absolute silence until they reached Kenny's house. Kenny was deep in thought, reviewing the chords he was supposed to play and making sure he remembered all the lyrics, or at least enough so he could bullshit the rest. Butters was still mashing his fists together furiously, probably thinking about what the heck could be so singular to him, what he could do for Kenny that no one else could. He probably had no idea what was coming next, but he was still smiling at the idea of being special.

"Ok, so I'm just gonna go inside and grab some sh— uh, some stuff before we head out again," Kenny said.

"W-well, ok, I'll come too," Butters said, suddenly looking very determined to do whatever was in his power to help out Kenny.

"Uh, no, I really don't think you want to do that," Kenny said apologetically, and before Butters could protest a beer bottle came flying out one of the windows and the two heard some cusses emitting from the dilapidated house.

Butters flinched and Kenny apologized before running in to get his guitar and making his escape as fast as possible. He doubted anyone even noticed him come in.

"So you got your guitar? Wow, Kenny, that's pretty nifty that you play one. You do play it, right? Oh geez, do you want me to be in your band? 'Cuz I'm not sure my parents would find me playing the drums or somethin' to be an appropriate activity," Butters exclaimed, getting excited at the promise of making music even if it was breaking some rules.

Kenny smiled a little and felt his heart beat a little faster. He cursed that particular organ and had to make sure he kept another under control as well.

"Haha, well, I wasn't planning on starting a band anytime soon, but if you ever wanted to start playing I might not be entirely against the idea," he laughed. Being with Butters was like floating on air; his heart felt fluttery and his desires were making his head spin. It wasn't merely sexual, Kenny could feel that, but sex certainly had something to do with it.

He led the way down to the familiar Stark's Pond, deserted as the ice still coated the surface but wasn't nearly thick enough to allow for ice skating. Kenny thanked God that there was an isolated spot in South Park he could perform at, with a bench for his audience of one.

"Um, what _is_ this about, Kenny?" Butters finally came out and questioned him, thoughtful and, as always, slightly nervous. "This spot, w-well, the ice is kinda thin if you wanted to go skating. With your guitar?" Butters put his hand to his head in an effort to think harder about the situation.

Kenny sighed, but it was a contented one. Nothing like the exasperated exhalations he experienced when he was frustrated at someone. Kenny was just _so fucking happy_ that he was getting this chance. It almost worried him.

Kenny motioned to the bench.

"Butters, I need you to sit down," he said, and Butters obediently sat. Kenny took out his guitar and got it into position, looking kindly at Butters while Butters looked curiously back.

"I'm going to sing you a song. About my feelings," he said, "for you." He cursed the way it sounded, the corny way it came out of his mouth. But how else could he phrase it? He was being completely genuine, completely true, and Butters needed to know this. Kenny needed to admit it.

"Kenny—" Butters began, mouth and eyes wide open. Kenny could tell that he didn't really get it. He didn't get how this was a romantic confession. Kenny inwardly groaned at how goddamned faggy this whole situation was.

"Butters, please just let me sing this damn song," he said. He figured his eyes showed his determination because Butters closed his mouth and looked at Kenny expectantly, slightly fidgeting back and forth in his seat.

Kenny sighed deeply in an effort to expel the quivering he suddenly felt throughout his body. His hands got clammy and his mouth got dry, and he didn't even understand what he was feeling anymore. But when he started to play his guitar, he began realizing just how _fitting_ the tune was. It pissed him off.

He started singing, and at the end of the second verse, he starting feeling sad.

"And that was the day that I promised, I'd never sing of love, if it does not exist."

Kenny could swear that his eyes were tearing up. He closed them. He couldn't look at Butters, be influenced by his reaction. He needed to do this all in one go, even though his heart was racing faster than he could ever remember. Wasn't he the local man-whore? Wasn't he that one kid who didn't get like this?

Wasn't he the one who didn't get serious?

"Maybe I know, somewhere, deep in my soul, that love never lasts."

He cruised through the verses, each one getting more and more emotional. This shitty, commercially-produced song had no right to be tugging at his heartstrings like this. He wouldn't let it win.

"And I've always lived like this, keeping a comfortable, distance. And up until know, I had sworn to myself, that I'm content…

With loneliness."

All of a sudden Kenny felt like his heart had burst, and all of these realizations came into his mind, all these things he hadn't been willing to admit to himself. They were all flowing out in this fucking song, because caring for someone was making him confess to himself that yes, he had so many damn problems, and he'd always felt like this.

The shit about parents, fucking stuff up and losing faith in one another. He'd believed that. The shit about being afraid of feeling love. He'd believed that. The shit about thinking there was no way anybody would love him completely and totally for the rest of time. He'd believed that. Lying to himself about being ok with living alone, and dying alone, every fucking time.

He'd believed that. Why?

"Because none of it was ever worth the risk."

And he opened his eyes, forcing himself to get out of this rut of self-pity, remembering why he was performing, for the person who was right there watching him. And he sang directly and wholeheartedly, so there would be no room for misunderstandings. He looked right into Butters' eyes, and he finished his song. This was his moment.

"But you are the only exception, you are the only exception, you are the only exception," he sang, thrusting his emotions forward onto this one kid. He didn't care if he was putting Butters into a tight spot, or if he was making him uncomfortable. He hadn't ever felt this strongly before, and he needed Butters to hear this. He wasn't sure he would ever be able to say it again.

"And I'm on my way to believing."

As he strummed the last note, Kenny let his arms fall to his sides, the guitar's neck gripped tightly in his right hand. He panted, feeling exhausted. He hadn't ever thought it would take so much energy to play one damn song.

He looked up into Butters' eyes, and he saw what he had been waiting for. It was so totally worth it. Everything was so totally worth it.

Butters wore a look of absolute wonder, sprinkled with the rewarding sight of profound attraction. Butters was looking at him carefully, and Kenny guessed that Butters' heart was beating just as fast as his own.

Everything was quiet. The only thing he could hear was the sound of his heart thumping and his labored breathing.

He thought about why he liked Butters so much. The kid was gullible and he believed that Kenny died, over and over. But when he looked at Butters like this, and really _analyzed_ what was going on in that little boyish mind, he knew that he felt safe with Butters. He was certain that Butters would never betray him. He'd always be honest, and he'd always be true to him. It was all so damn reassuring.

He moved closer to Butters. Overwhelmingly relieved, Kenny pointed a still-shivering finger at the spot next to the timid blond.

"Can I… Sit there?"

"…Y-yeah," Butters breathed.

So he sat there.


	4. Thoughts and Actions

**Hey hey hey! First things first, the song in the last chapter was The Only Exception by Paramore, in case anybody was wondering. Sorry, I forgot to mention it. _; Anyway, it's a Sunday night which means there might not be another update until the weekend. I was churning them out this weekend because I knew I wouldn't have much time during the week. Thanks for all the reviews and favorites, you guys! I appreciate it. ;) Peace ~ CrisisOmegs  
**

**PachucaSunrise - I address the whole Kenny thing here a little bit, just for you. 3 Thanks for always reviewing, I love your story.  
**

Butters lay down in bed that night and he couldn't stop thinking. He nestled his head deep into his pillow and pulled the covers up so that only the tip of his blond head could be seen. He felt safe and warm, and he felt comfortable thinking about Kenny. He was having trouble _not _thinking about him, in fact. But after years of being told to behave and being told what to think, Butters had, to some extent, learned how to behave himself. This meant that he didn't dare think of Kenny while he was at the dinner table, or doing his homework, or watching television with his parents in the same room.

Underneath his sheets, Butters felt that nobody could penetrate his thoughts, which sounded like an awfully nice idea because he had some major thinking to do.

Kenny was attractive and charming, and he'd been the coolest person Butters had ever hung out with. Butters loved how comfortable Kenny was with himself, and how it looked like he never doubted himself. But Kenny didn't do it in a mean way like Cartman did a lot of the time. Kenny was just acting the way he knew how, and he didn't see any reason to think he should be acting otherwise. Butters wished he could be like that, sure of his actions.

But Butters was really scared. He and Kenny had sat on the bench for an hour, and they had talked although Butters couldn't recall about what exactly. The whole time he was just filled with euphoria, because somebody really wanted to be with him. Kenny really wanted to sit there and talk to him. It made Butters feel giddy.

He was scared because it was so unnatural. Because nobody wanted to sit there and talk to Butters, not if they were right in the head. It was a theme that popped up over and over again in his life, and even though Kenny and his performance had taken his breath away, the small creature called suspicion had burrowed its way into Butters' brain as soon as he was left alone again. What had he done that suddenly made his dream come true? What sort of thing must have happened to get him private show and a love confession to boot?

So even though he wished he wouldn't, and even though he was still so gullible, Butters couldn't help but have doubts. He believed most everything people told him, as long as it wasn't something about himself. He had believed Kenny when he'd said he couldn't die, because it didn't have anything to do with Butters. Past experiences had cemented into Butters the idea that if he was complimented or told he was special or anything like that, those people were lying. He didn't have a reason to doubt anything unless he felt the manipulative pangs of false flattery.

He just didn't want to get used again. He still went along with Cartman's plans, because he didn't know what else to do. And often, he'd set aside his suspicions because he wanted to feel the vain hope of affection. But this time, it had been so sudden and beautiful and it looked so sincere the way Kenny sang and played his guitar, that Butters couldn't ignore all the warning signals going off in his head. As much as he'd like to.

He went deeper into his bed, feeling it swallow him up whole and he wished it wouldn't spit him out. But he heard the door to his bedroom open, shattering him from his isolation. Even though he didn't move a muscle, the moment had been ruined as he remembered that at sixteen, his father still came in late at night to make sure he was asleep at ten o'clock, and that he really wasn't worth singing for.

* * *

Even if he had become less confident in himself over the years, Cartman still didn't make many mistakes (in his opinion). But when he saw Butters and Kenny next Home Ec, he was so pissed that he actually regretted digging up info for Kenny. For seriouslah.

Kenny was mostly the same as always, still keeping his cool and not giggling like a lovesick school girl. Except every time he talked to Butters he'd get this happy grin on his face, and it was so stupid and he just looked so genuinely overjoyed that Cartman couldn't take it.

Butters was worse. Sooooo much worse; while Kenny was calm, Butters was giggly and goofy and more of a klutz than usual. Additionally, Cartman could swear that Butters was actually being flirty with Kenny. Butters and "flirty" should NEVER be uttered in the same sentence.

Let's make one thing clear: they weren't going out. Yet.

Butters, for all of his romantic antics, was hesitant about going out with any guy because of his parents' stance on the matter. Cartman could tell right off the bat; Butters was the kind of guy who desperately wanted to be swept up in a romance, but he was also the type of guy who had a hard on for true love only. While Butters was gullible and innocent to a fault, he was also an idealist, and Cartman knew he'd do everything to make sure this wasn't some shitty set-up. Which it sort of was.

Nonetheless, the sight of the two was enough to send Cartman in a fury. He hated that they were getting along, and, truthfully? He felt like when the two fags got together, he'd be all alone.

No doubt they'd want to spend every waking moment with each other, kissing and handjobs and all that. And they were Cartman's two best friends. Or at least the closest he had to any such thing.

But more than being alone, Cartman was overcome with jealousy. He was jealous of how comfortable Kenny was with his sexuality. He was really fucking jealous.

So he went out and bought a bouquet of roses, with a cheesy card and he scrawled the name "Wendy" on the inside. Two shy owls, one holding a box of heart-shaped chocolates, adorned the front. It was so gay and totally perfect for the hippie bitch. He'd have her swooning in no time, and then he wouldn't even have a reason to be attracted to guys.

He brought it to school in the morning and hid it in his locker when Kenny came up to him, smiling contentedly and giving Cartman a high-five.

"Dude, that tip totally worked!" he said, triumph shining in his eyes. "Butters and I are totally going to get together. Holy shit, it's like, only a matter of time, you know?"

Cartman stepped back from the cheerful teen, putting his hands out in front of him.

"Jesus, don't come so close to me with that look on your face. I don't even want to know what you're thinking of right now. It's kind of freaking me out, fag."

"Hey, lighten up. Don't you get it? I'm totally up for the next part of the deal now!"

"…"

"What?"

Cartman sighed loudly.

"Kenneh, I'm afraid I cannot justify funding your excessive faggotry any further," Cartman spat,trying to sound as bigoted as possible.

"What? Hey Fat-ass, what happened to our agreement? You're just gonna back out now?"

"Kenneh, you don't even need it."

"What if I fuck up?"

Cartman looked up in surprise. Kenny was actually nervous about this. It disgusted Cartman, to think that Kenny was so invested in this endeavor that he was actually afraid of messing up.

Cartman laughed in his face.

"Do I look like I care?" he sneered, and he saw Kenny shove his hands into his pockets after flipping him the bird and starting to walk away.

_That's what you get for being a fag, _Cartman thought_. And, you know, acting on it. _

_

* * *

_

Wendy rolled her eyes as a flamboyant Cartman, carrying himself in a way which he probably thought made him look sophisticated, headed towards her with bouquet in hand.

She groaned, and Bebe looked up in surprise. The two girls were chatting at Wendy's locker before Cartman appeared at the scene.

Bebe laughed nervously.

"You want I should get out of here? I'm guessing you want to have a talk with him all on your own," she said, giving Wendy a sympathetic look. "He's getting a little ridiculous with this stuff."

"Yeah, uh, you go ahead. Didn't you want to talk to Kenny about something anyway?" Wendy reminded her friend, and Bebe's eyes lit up.

"Oh no, I decided to hook up with Clyde this weekend," Bebe winked. "Too-de-loo, good luck with the Chubmaster!"

Wendy grinned in spite of her situation and gave Bebe a friendly push forwards. The flirtatious blond made her way happily from the locker moments before Cartman arrived.

"Wendeh," she heard, and at the same time caught a whiff of roses as Cartman shoved the bouquet at her face.

Her expression changed from worried to simply annoyed.

"What is it, Cartman?" Wendy said, trying her best to sound like she wouldn't bother giving him the time of day.

"I believe that women enjoy receiving dead plants from attractive men," he sneered. "And so I've come to treat you to just such a thing. I believe you'll find that your affections for me have skyrocketed to the point of lust. Shall we go back to my place?"

He leaned forwards and closed his eyes, sticking his lips out in a way that suggested he'd had little practice kissing. Wendy shrank back, wrinkling her nose.

"Look Fat-ass," she began, but stopped as she realized it wouldn't be worth the trouble. She just scoffed and attempted to move away, but Cartman blocked her way out with a solid arm.

"But Wendeeeeeeeeeeehhhhh," he moaned, drawing attention to himself. Wendy smirked as she thought just how little he'd changed since elementary school, at least in the way he acted. He was still coming up with manipulative schemes that she still found offensive and excessive. He still had quirks and charms, and she couldn't deny she found them appealing. But as always, the bad outweighed the good to an astronomical extent. That couldn't be helped. But maybe if she wanted to get him back for all the shit he'd ever pulled…

"Ok," she said.

Cartman's jaw nearly dropped to the floor, and she was surprised to find that he'd doubted himself. But he quickly got himself back together, and his eyes had that familiar look of complete confidence. If she hadn't been paying attention, she wouldn't have noticed his doubt at all.

"Hehe, so for all her protesting, the hippie bitch still wants me, huh? Alright, then we go to—" he began, but Wendy held up her hand.

"On my terms only. If you fuck this up," she said, her foul language causing a smile to twitch across Cartman's face, "you have to agree that you'll stop all these ridiculous advances. Deal?"

Cartman eyed her suspiciously.

"Meeeh… What… 'Conditions', exactly?" he questioned, although he certainly looked pleased with himself.

"One: you show up at my doorstep at eight on Friday, clean and shaven, wearing a dress shirt and pants along with a tie. AND cologne," Wendy said; the agreement was bringing out her inner businesswoman.

Cartman opened his mouth and a pained look spread over his face, but Wendy continued her demands.

"Two: you don't swear or make racist, sexist, or prejudiced comments of any kind. This includes calling me a ho, a bitch, a hippie, or a hippie bitch. Three: I decide the conversation topics, I decide the location, and I decide what happens afterwards."

Cartman sneered at her and protested, but his heart clearly wasn't in it.

"Y-you think you can take control of this date like that, ho? I'm the one who asked. I'm so… I mean, seriouslah…" he mumbled, and Wendy drew her face close to his. _Cartman's not the only one who can play some seriously fucked-up mind games_, she thought with a wicked grin.

"Cartman, do you honestly think you'll ever get a date without me here to go out with you? You've gone sixteen years without a girlfriend, I doubt they'll be falling all over you any time soon. Face it; you've got two options here. The first is to go along and be whipped for the first time in your life, and the second is to be a bachelor for the rest of your high school career," she said, and she was reminded how much of a sadist she could be herself. She decided to add in one more acidic insult: "Maybe you'd better just start dating guys."

If Cartman had been having any inner turmoil about setting aside his pride before, he certainly didn't have any now; his sudden about-face wasn't what Wendy had been expecting.

"Friday at eight, right?" he said, and Wendy nodded.

Her face was blank on the outside, but inside she felt more excited than she should have been. Tormenting Eric Cartman was a rare chance, and he always deserved it.

She took the bouquet in her hands after Cartman had left. The owls were a nice touch.

* * *

Kenny waited by Butters' locker that afternoon, eager to walk him home. It was raining hard outside and he knew Butters' parents weren't going to pick him up, and Butters had some kind of Honors Students meetings or some shit like that, which meant he'd miss the bus. Kenny would be there waiting, a well-worn (but fully functional) umbrella at his side, reminding the timid blond that he'd be there for him.

Simply put, Kenny's newfound affection had found an old part of his personality and rekindled it. His excitement for anything at all had petered down to a feigned look or surprise at most of the events in South Park. There were times when he remembered the frequent "woo-hoo!"'s of his childhood, the passion he used to have for stuff, and had gotten jealous. Hanging out with Butters, who was still as childish as when they first met, had started up that passion again. _Lucky for you, Butters, you bring out the passion in me_, Kenny thought, and he reprimanded himself for thinking sexual thoughts when the actions themselves were a long way coming.

Though, to be honest? Cartman's refusal to give up any more of Butters' desires had left Kenny a little nervous.

Butters approached, and Kenny flashed him a warm smile. He opened the umbrella while they were still in the hall.

"Are you superstitious? Either way, I'd like to walk you home," he greeted the other blond, looking at him lovingly.

Butters gave a nervous laugh and rubbed the back of his neck while his cheeks flushed red. He looked up at Kenny. While he seemed to almost be wary of the taller teen, Kenny could tell that Butters wanted to indulge in more of these moments. Maybe Kenny's performance had gotten Butters addicted to these romantic types of things.

Kenny hoped he was doing just enough to show how much he cared. And not so much that he looked like a total creep.

"A-aw shucks Kenny," Butters stuttered, and he started mashing his fists together like always. "You didn't hafta, well, wait here for me till my meetin' was over. You don't hafta do this stuff for me."

_Cuuuuuuute._

"I know," Kenny said thoughtfully. He brushed against Butters' hand, hoping to enclose it. He wasn't only doing this because he wanted to be nice; it was because he wanted to be in a relationship with Butters. He loved the kid, but he wasn't sure how long he would be able to wait around before getting antsy.

"K-Kenny," Butters said gently, pulling his hand away. "W-we can't hold hands or nuthin', though." Seeing the other boy's crestfallen look, he added quickly, "N-not if we're going to my house. I mean, I might like to try it. S-sometime. Like, only if we was datin'…"

Butters blushed furiously and his eyes flitted back and forth on the ground. Kenny was pleased with the answer; he draped a long arm across Butters' shoulders.

"I promise not to try anything," he said. "As long as we walk like this until we're out of the school campus."

He had to be pushy sometimes. Butters certainly wasn't going to get any less wishy-washy.

Butters started to argue, but Kenny had already started walking.

Kenny felt Butters' small, warm body against his until the crossed over onto the next street, and he could swear the blond moved a little closer before their bodies separated.

_I wonder if I'm enjoying this more than I should._


	5. A Hopeless Romantic

**HEY: This chapter is otherwise known as "emotions and feelings that were held in before come pouring out like a torrential downpour". Also, BE THANKFUL! I took time out of my business weekday schedule to write a short chapter for you guys. Essentially, I've split up one big chapter that included this and Cartman and Wendy's "date". That date chapter will get out sometime soon. I think I might want to spend more time on the two's actually conversation because I wanted it to be a thing with a lot of revelations about how Cartman has changed and how he views the world now and all that. **

**To show your thanks, how about a lil' review action? ^_^**

**Hope this chapter isn't too cheesy for all of yous. It's got a lot of low-esteem Butters. :'[ Peace ~ CrisisOmegs  
**

On Friday afternoon, Kenny waited for Butters at his locker, as he'd been doing all week. Each time he saw Kenny's relaxed figure standing there, Butters' heart swelled more and more, and he was slowly letting himself forget his doubts. But the nagging feeling of suspicion was still looming in the background. And Butters just didn't know what to do about it.

Kenny smiled as usual, but as they left the school Butters noticed a marked change in his attitude. There was no attempt at physical contact, and the usually casual teen seemed deeper in thought than usual. It saddened Butters; the pushy handholding and arm drapery let him indulge in these moments more than he would have normally. With Kenny's seemingly genuine flirtations missing, the uneasy teen became even more nervous than usual. He mashed his fists together furiously and he furrowed his brow.

_What if he doesn't l-like me anymore, cause of somethin' I did or said or made or oh please God don't let him stop walking me home._

He stopped in his tracks, mind working frantically and eyes darting around, exploring all the possibilities of what he could have messed up on this time. He must have been the one to do something wrong; he always was. But he couldn't come up with an explanation.

Kenny, slightly hunched over with his hands deep in his pockets, turned and gave Butters a curious smile, and the taller teen raised an eyebrow. Butters stood with him like this on the sidewalk for what seemed like forever, hearing the cars zoom by and other students pass them.

When everyone else had walked by, Kenny sighed and came closer towards Butters; Butters shamefully held his breath. He expected no less than a stern talking to and maybe a smack across the head for what he'd done wrong. He received instead an affectionate ruffling of his short blond hair, and a soothing pat on his round head. He calmed down, and he allowed himself to look up at Kenny's kind face. For however long that look would last, it was compassionate and caring enough for now.

_I like this, _Butters thought_. I like it, when I can stand in silence and feel like I'm comfortable. _

His thoughts were interrupted as Kenny let out a loud sigh and closed his eyes with a pensive look on his face, still holding his hand on top of Butters' head.

"Butters," he began, "I've been walking you home like this for a while now, I guess. Well, a while in my mind anyway. And I've gotta get something off my chest, you know, something I feel sort of guilty about. I haven't been… Entirely honest with you."

Butters thought his heart was going to burst. He knew that this had been too good to be true, that there had to be a catch. His head started to fill up with the worst possible scenarios, and immediately he began to feel disgusted with himself.

_Oh god here it is, he's doing this as a bet, he's trying to trick me, he's making fun of me behind my back, he doesn't really like me, he doesn't really like me, he doesn't really like me._

Kenny took a deep breath and started confessing.

"The reason I sang to you at the pond that day, and the way I knew you'd love it was because I had Cartman look up some info on you. If you're ever looking for any of your old diaries, I'd suggest breaking into his room. Ah, but that's not important—what is important is that I basically tricked you into liking me, by finding out what you liked the most in a guy. I'm really sorry, and I feel sort of like that's cheap, you know? Like some trick I would use to try and get some stupid—" Kenny said, but he stopped when he saw Butters' eyes welling up with tears. Kenny looked heartbroken, and he pulled his hood up over his face to try and mask some of his own sadness. "Hey man, I totally get it. I mean, if you don't want to walk home with me anymore or anything."

The smaller, naïve teenager had tears rolling down his face, but they were grateful tears.

Butters wanted more than anything to tell Kenny that it was ok, it was completely fine. He didn't care whether it was a trick or something he'd come up with on his own. What mattered was Kenny cared enough to find any way he could to be with Butters. Butters didn't know too much about affection, and what he did know didn't involve going great lengths to be with someone. The pure fact that Kenny had practiced long and hard, had simply _put in the effort_ to do something on so grand a scale. _For him!_ Butters felt, in that moment, that the air moving in and out of his lungs and the blood flowing through his veins weren't merely accidental. He was meant for something, and all his living had led up to this point, where an attractive blond who Butters had no business dating sincerely cared for him. _Sincerely!_

He wanted to tell Kenny this, but he kept choking up and the tears kept streaming down his face. Butters thought that puddles would form at his feet from all the crying, and when he'd finished there would be an ocean engulfing both him and Kenny, and they would float downstream in a little romantic rowboat and just remain there, swaying on a sea of happiness. Butters had always been, and always would be, a hopeless romantic.

"K-Kenny," he sobbed, and as he shook with his newfound relief, he moved closer to Kenny and nestled his head in the tall blond's jacket. He looked up to see Kenny's surprised reaction, which was as beautiful and perfect as he had expected it to be.

Butters held the front of Kenny's coat firmly in his hands, pulling him up so his face was right next to Kenny's.

He gently, slowly, placed his lips on the other boy's. Suddenly, he felt Kenny's hands grasp the back of his head and the small of his back, holding Butters tightly against his body. They stood with lips and bodies pressing, nearly motionless, until Butters pulled away and looked up at Kenny with wide eyes.

"I-I'm s-sorry, Kenny," he said, nearly whispering. Thinking he had done something inappropriate, without even asking for Kenny's consent, the fragile child was filled with a new sense of shame.

Until he felt a strong hand nudge his chin, lifting his eyes until they met the other's full, blue orbs.

Kenny drew Butters into a warm embrace, holding Butters' head against his solid body.

"You don't ever have to apologize to me," Kenny said.

And then Butters felt utterly, completely safe.


	6. Some Sort of a Date

**My fanfiction was called beautiful! *_* In my opinion, it's one of the highest praises a critic can give an author. Thanks, dude! *sniffle***

**This is entirely a Wendy and Cartman chapter, chronicling their date together. I'm not sure how people will take this, because it's pretty calm. I feel like when we're talking about Wendy and Cartman, their relationship will be slow going because it will be so difficult for Wendy to admit to herself how she feels. The chapter is sort of short, it's like the second part of chapter 5. It's pretty much a character development chapter, so don't expect too many big developments. Wendy may seem a little bipolar, but I think she's totally like that in the show so it's pretty in characters. I'm still deciding how exactly their romance will go, who will do what first, blah blah blah. Just sit tight. Reviews are good. :)**

Wendy was putting the finishing touches on her make-up when the doorbell rang. With her parents out on a date of their own, she was the only one home. She yelled, "COMING!" and took a last look in the mirror, making sure she looked glamorous. The doorbell rang a second time, followed by a series of impatient, successive rings. Wendy rolled her eyes.

_Typical._

She glanced at the clock on her phone as she descended the stairs. Eight o'clock exactly.

She opened the door a bit cautiously, and was almost surprised to find a very put-together Cartman standing on the steps. He was straightening his tie when she opened the door, and his green shirt looked nice against his cocoa eyes. Wendy smelt the subtle waft of cologne.

Cartman's eyes widened a little once he saw her outfit; Wendy wasn't wearing a scandalous outfit, but her flowing blue blouse complemented her features nicely. She knew she looked stunning, especially when she'd gone the extra mile with her blush and eye shadow. Though she wondered if he was turned off by the fact that she was wearing dress pants rather than a skirt.

Cartman cleared his throat, straightening his posture and melodramatically looking at his watch.

"It is officially eight oh one. Wendeh, I am very disappointed that you were not waiting at the door for your date. Wherever the hell we're going."

Wendy shot him a look of obvious disapproval.

"Didn't I say no swearing, Cartman?"

"Ugh, hell doesn't count!" he groaned. "It's a fu—frikin' place! Give me a break…"

Wendy rolled her eyes and waved her hand at him, implying that he should drop it.

"Let's go, we'll be late for our reservations," she said, and made her way to Cartman's car after locking the front door of her house. Or rather, his mother's car; the blue van stood still-running in her driveway.

Wendy could almost feel Cartman's pain at being told what to do like this. Fuck, he could never bear it when he was being bossed around. Whether he could stand it or not would be a true test of affection.

Come to think of it, had the idiot ever even said anything about liking her?

Cartman grumbled, leaning his head in his hand while his other hand fiddled with his straw. He'd ordered a cola but he'd hardly touched it. In fact, for a kid with a reputation for gluttony, Wendy thought that he wasn't eating much at all. And she had even been nice enough to bring him to Sizzler so he could get himself some steak.

Most or all of her conversation topics had fallen flat. Cartman had been reluctant to answer, and he was hardly making an effort to come up with any on her own. It was like he was unable to function without making a racist joke every couple of minutes.

If she had to honest, Wendy would admit that her motives for the date were anything but pure. She had planned to merely taunt him all night, swearing herself and making comments he wouldn't have been able to defend against if he were abiding by the rules. Of course, it was never her expectation that he would stay true to her stipulations. Wendy had predicted an outbreak of cusses and slurs against hippies on the first half-hour. And right after he burst? She'd be able to tease and torment him all she wanted.

But she hadn't had any luck provoking him at all. She would have sincerely felt bad had she launched into a stream of insults after Cartman had done nothing wrong. Though, his silence and mumbling were nearly as annoying as his usual, insulting comments. Not in the same way, however; it was getting on her nerves to have him _not_ making comments, if that made any sense.

Finally, Wendy had had enough. After finishing her meal of fish and chips, she sighed and decided to ask Cartman a personal question. If she asked him this, and it _was_ something she wanted to know, he wouldn't be able to brush it off like he had when she'd asked him what he thought of world current events. Maybe she'd even get the truth out of him. Pfft.

"Cartman, why are you such a fucking asshole all the time?"

Cartman's face contorted with frustration as he picked his head up suddenly and leaned forwards on the table. He looked furiously at her, almost disbelieving that she would have the gall to say such a thing. His moping had been instantly transformed into rage. Wendy was somehow happy about this.

"What the fuck, ho? I bring you out to a nice fucking dinner, and you think that gives you the right to talk shit to me?" he shouted, taking his napkin off his lap and throwing it on the table. "I don't give a flying fuck whether you leave or not, I'm swearing all I want. Good luck getting home without a car ride." He sneered and tried looking defiant, but it was clear that he wasn't going to get up and leave. He was obviously waiting for her response.

Wendy was careful to be extremely gentle with what she said next. Over the years, she'd had a lot of conflicting feelings about Cartman, but curiosity was always a constant. He wasn't like anyone else she had ever met, for better or for worse. Either way, if she wanted to know anything about Eric Cartman, this was probably going to be her only chance to ask it. Since there wouldn't be a second date, of course.

"I wasn't talking about just the date. I'm talking about, like, in life. All the time. I see you sometimes, and you look surprised when people refuse to talk to you or pay attention to you. But why shouldn't they? You're such an ass to everyone all the time. I want to know why you act that way."

Cartman looked her straight in the eye. He took a while to answer; Wendy presumed he was fabricating a sob-story about not having a father. The exchange that followed caught her off guard.

"It's not fair," Cartman stated bluntly, his voice devoid of sarcasm. Wendy snorted.

"What, you mean life? You think you can be a jerk to people because life isn't fair?" she questioned, laughing cynically and rolling her eyes.

Cartman's face remained stoic. He didn't even acknowledge her skepticism.

"No. Not that. You know how everybody says that you should just be yourself? That it's wrong to pretend to be someone else? I happen to take that to heart."

He paused, observing her reaction. Wendy quieted down. She hadn't realized she was getting Cartman to pour his heart out, but the look on his face suggested otherwise. The rarity of such a situation caused Wendy to give it her full attention. Cartman cleared his throat and continued.

"But it isn't fair, because I do act like myself, all the time. I may not be as confident as I was before, but I am a naturally confident person. I'm also, by nature, an utter asshole. I like to make fun of people, and I am a racist and a sexist and all that other shit. But I'm being myself, so I should be happy and everyone should accept me for who I am. That's what they teach people to do at school, from since they're in fucking kindergarten. But people don't understand that not everybody is a damn saint on the inside. And they want something that I can't give them; they want me to be nice to people and not call them names or fuck with them. So they want something I can't give them without sacrificing my identity. That's not fucking fair at all. What a double standard."

Wendy was silent for a moment, studying Cartman's features. She took a deep breath and thought about this before responding.

"Why did you tell me this?" she said quietly, and the pair's eyes met once again.

Suddenly, Cartman reverted to his familiar self. He crossed his thick arms and his brown eyes narrowed, showing the same old cruel stare he's always had. His lips curled into a smirk.

"Bitches can't resist a tormented man," he scoffed, taunting her and enjoying it. "Besides, now that you're emotionally invested, I know you won't be able to turn away. It'd be like kicking an injured puppy, and because you're both a hippie AND a woman, I'm now impossible to refuse."

Wendy was starting to get annoyed again, but she wasn't going to let Cartman's previous burst of emotions go without mention. She honestly believed she could connect with him. She was a hippie, after all, so she went for all this emotional crap.

But, like always with Cartman, there was something still off about the entire situation. Not just his touchy-feely attitude a moment before.

"Eric, what's the reason you really wanted to go out with me?" she said. He hadn't made any advances. He'd given her flowers and tried to act 'suave', but he was doing it all like steps in a process. And she seriously doubted that Eric Cartman, the guy who desperately wanted to maintain a visage of supreme confidence, would let his guard down in front of the girl he was infatuated with.

But he was one hundred percent back to his old self again, reluctant to give anything away about himself. It was like his sadism was a huge wall covering up all of his issues.

He smiled slyly, and she knew she'd been the one to get caught in a trap. He was right; she couldn't walk away from him anymore. She wasn't sure if he'd let her in again, but he had done so once, and it had the desired effect. Cartman had her right where he wanted her.

"Maybe I'll save that for the second date," he teased.

Wendy thought that he might actually have succeeded in acting suave tonight.

He wiped his face on his napkin and, without another word, stood up to leave. He stood at the front door, and looked back at her, motioning her to follow. She stood up to run after him, lots of thoughts about how she would get through to him filling her head. He was like a new challenge, and Wendy _loved _a challenge. As she began to leave, she heard their waiter clear his throat.

Of course, Cartman had left Wendy with the bill.

_Typical._


End file.
